


Heist

by mid_sweettalk



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mid_sweettalk/pseuds/mid_sweettalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had just been a normal day of work at the New York City branch of TrustAmerica bank for Rachel Berry... Then her bank was robbed and she was taken as a hostage. Faberry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on fanfiction and thought I'd put it up here, too! Enjoy! Comment and tell me what you think :)

It was just another day for Rachel Berry. She was behind her desk at TrustAmerica, helping a father set up a checking account for his sixteen-year-old daughter. They were both polite, the daughter quiet, and as Rachel typed her portion of the form into her computer, she sent a smile her way to help relax the young girl.

It took her about ten seconds to realize what was happening.

The door burst open, and in ran three figures dressed in black, with ski masks covering their faces. Unfamiliar voices were yelling, and Tina shrieked from the desk beside her own before dropping down to the ground.

"On your knees!" someone yelled. Rachel turned around to look straight into the barrel of a shotgun. "I said to get on your knees, now!" the figure yelled again when Rachel hadn't moved.

Rachel moved her hands above her head and slowly pushed herself away from the desk with her feet. She tried to ease herself down, but the shrouded figure shoved her to the ground by her shoulders. As she fell to the ground face-first, Rachel vaguely noted that the voice belonged to a woman.

Remembering that the woman had said to be "on her knees", Rachel attempted to push herself back up, but felt the end of the shotgun pressing into her back. "Stay down," the woman ordered. Rachel quickly nodded her head, and then it sunk in.

Her bank was being robbed at gunpoint.

"Now," another woman's voice said from farther away, "which one of you pretty girls wants to come open up this safe for us?" Her voice was more sarcastic, and Rachel briefly wondered if this was the one in charge. "How 'bouts you, lady boy?" Rachel's eyes squeezed shut in a wince at what she  _knew_  was a reference to Kurt. She heard his high-pitched stammer and swallowed, making a decision in her head that she hoped she wouldn't regret later.

"He doesn't know the combination." Rachel tried to speak strongly, but her words came out in little more than a squeak. The woman above her dug the gun into her back more than it had been previously at her words.

"Stop trying to play hero, Hobbit," the woman said sternly, twisting the end of the barrel into Rachel's spine in a way that was sure to leave more damage than a bruise.

"I-I'm not, I'm not lying!" Rachel took a breath to keep from sounding frantic. "The only people that know the c-combination to the vault are the manager and the assistant manager. The manager is out today, which means that-that the only person here that knows the combin-"

"We get it, Chatty Cathy; who's the assistant manager?" said the sarcastic woman from beside Kurt's desk.

Rachel took another deep breath. "Sh-she is also not in today-"

"You're fucking lying," Sarcastic bit out, taking quick steps closer in Rachel's direction. Rachel heard Tina shriek again and jerked her head around.

The masked woman had Tina's head pulled back by her hair, the woman's pistol (Rachel never paid much attention to names of guns) pressed to the Asian girl's temple. "Tell us who it is, Supergirl, or I gets to blow Asian Fusion's brains out," Sarcastic spit, pressing the gun in an obviously painful way to the girl's skull.

Rachel bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut once, trying to organize her thoughts over the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She opened her eyes and looked up blankly at the masked woman, who, after a beat, moved her gun to point towards the sixteen-year-old Rachel had been helping prior to this mess.

"No? How about her?"

"Ess," the woman above Rachel said firmly. It was obviously a warning, and Rachel realized then that it was the woman standing over her that was in charge of all this. The woman now known as "S" nodded after a moment, slightly relinquishing her hold on Tina's black-and-blue hair while moving her gun to the ground. "We don't want anybody's blood on our hands," Woman-In-Charge continued. "Bee, over here."

The third member of their masked gang walked-no,  _skipped_ -over, some type of army-grade gun strapped across her back. "Yeah, Cue?" she said jovially, as if she  _wasn't_  in the process of holding up a bank full of innocent people.

"Info on this one," Q replied-it wasn't voiced as a command; it was more of a request, which made Rachel believe that they worked more like a team and less like a boss with two lackeys.

The third woman-"B"-looked at Rachel for a moment before saying, in a surprisingly sweet and happy voice, "Rachel Barbra Berry; daughter of Hiram and Leroy Berry-two dads? That's weird; named after Barbra Streisand; grew up in Lima, Ohio; dated quarterback Finn Hudson off and on for two of the four years of high school; graduated from McKinley High School in the class of 2012 and immediately left for New York City; auditioned for NYADA's theater program four years in a row; never got accepted, nor applied for any other colleges-wow, that was stupid; lived in her car until she started working with TrustAmerica: New York branch in 2018 as a minor employee and could actually afford a place; was promoted to the title of Assistant Manager in 2023. That enough?"

Rachel stared up at the tallest of the three women, completely frightened out of her mind. How had she known all of those things about her? There's no way she could have known about Finn, or her being named after Barbra. That was-there was no way.

"Well, then, RuPaul, come up and get your prize, you skinny little-"

"S, calm down. Berry, get up." The shotgun was lifted from her spine and then B was leaning down to help her up-gently, Rachel was shocked to find. "I got her, B; go watch the others. Make sure they don't touch anywhere near their desks."

"Got it, Q." B bounced away, floating on her toes in a way that reminded Rachel of Susie Petrovski, the girl from Rachel's old dance class who was so  _pretty_ and  _perfect_  and the most  _amazing_  little  _ballerina_ -

"Berry. Door." Q unceremoniously pushed her towards the door to the hallway in which the vault was closed. Rachel briefly wondered how she could have known where the safe was located, before she realized that they had probably researched and found some map of the building beforehand. It still didn't explain how they knew such personal things about her, though.

They were in front of the door of the room that held the vault. Rachel rose a shaking hand to press the correct sequence into the number pad located beside the doorway, opening the door slowly as Q pressed her gun to Rachel's back once more. The two of them walked inside, leaving S in the hallway-to keep an eye on B, Rachel surmised.

Rachel walked to the vault, again raising her shaking hand. She spun the dial twice to the left, stopped at the first number, then spun to the right. She spun the dial too far in her nervousness, however, and shook her head at herself slightly, resetting the dial with two spins back to 0.

"Hurry it up, Hobbit," Q said with a voice between stern and harsh.

"I'm trying," Rachel huffed, speaking as indignantly as she could. "I apologize, but it would most likely help my cerebrum to better function if there was  _not_  a loaded gun aimed at my posterior."

She felt the gun lift from her skin before hearing, "Wow, you really  _are_ Chatty Cathy."

Rachel huffed again and rolled her eyes, thankful that the woman couldn't see her face. She took a deep breath and raised her hand to the dial again. She spun twice, then once, then once again, pushing the dial inwards before pulling on the handle that opened the vault door. Q nodded her approval before grabbing Rachel's arm and pulling her back out to the hallway.

They had both passed S when the door at the end of the hall was pushed open and B came running in. "Guys, the cops are here," the woman said breathlessly. Q's grip on Rachel's arm tightly noticeably, and the small girl noted S's tensed shoulders with her peripheral vision.

"Damn it," S nearly shouted, smacking the wall next to her with a gloved fist. "How did they…?" She trailed off and looked up at Rachel, who glanced away as quickly as she could. "What did you do, you stupid bitch?" S growled, taking a menacing step towards her. Q's grip tightened even more. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and stuttered out a, "N-nothing," as her mind flashed back to the number sequence to the door.

"She put in some extra numbers to that code thingie," B said after a moment of staring, gesturing towards the door. "It triggered the silent alarm."

"God  _damn_ it!"

"S.  _Calm_ your ass  _down_."

"What do we do, Q?" B asked, and Rachel could almost picture the look of helplessness that was surely adorning the tall girl's face at that moment.

"B, go let them go. All of them, but slowly; one every five minutes or so, until there are about five left inside; then wait. That way they won't make a move because of the risks. If the phone rings, come get me. S, watch her," with this, Rachel was shoved towards the other girl, "and I'll signal to the boys. Don't worry too much, B."

Rachel looked wildly between the women as S grabbed her arm with a decidedly tighter grip than Q had used. B ran back out through the door, and Q walked back towards the vault, lifting a walkie-talkie from her belt to her mouth. "M, P, move in, we've got cops. Vault's open, bring the bags." Rachel heard a faint "roger" come through the device before Q spoke again. "Also, boys… bring some duct tape. We've got ourselves a hostage."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes and prayed that she would get out of this alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn wasn't nervous. They'd done this before, they were prepared and experienced, and she knew how to stay calm if anything  _did_  decide to go wrong for them. As previously stated, however, she wasn't worried about that happening.

The hold-up went smoothly, as expected. The civilians were scared shitless, and the one guy in the building that was actually big enough to take out one of the women was too worried for his daughter to make a move. They'd caught the bank at the perfect time.

They'd also succeeded in sufficiently freaking out the Assistant Manager into confessing that she knew the code. She was a terrible liar, though; Quinn wondered why the young girl had ever aspired to be an actress if she couldn't even tell a lie when her life was at stake.

Then she found out why. Quinn'd had no clue that the brunette was up to something when she was at the keypad to the safe room, although it explained her sudden confidence when she was actually in front of the safe. There weren't many people willing to backtalk the person who was holding a gun to their body.

At Brittany's announcement that the police were outside, Quinn had a small moment of panic. As always, though, she came up with a plan. She handed the Berry girl off to Santana, hoping that the Latina didn't decide to follow through with her anger at the girl and kill her off-they  _really_  didn't need anyone's blood on their hands-and walked away to give the signal to Mike and Puck through the walkie-talkie. She knew that one of the other hostages would let the police know that they still had Berry; the girl was insurance.

She walked back into the safe room and waited patiently, studying the inside of the vault as she did so. There was more cash in there than she had expected for such a small bank, but it was still in New York after all, Quinn figured.

The girl scratched at the back of her neck where the ski mask was irritating her skin. She was dying to take it off but knew how dangerous it was to do so, especially now that they had taken a long-term hostage. She was startled a bit as the ceiling above her started falling apart, the quiet sounds of a water saw just barely perceptible. As a large circle of the structure fell to the floor, Quinn smiled up at the sight of her boys. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, baby mama; Chang couldn't figure out the saw. The Puckasaurus got it covered though, no worries," one of the men said in his usual demeanor, his Mohawk discernible even through his own ski mask. He unrolled a wood-and-rope climbing ladder over the side of the hole in the ceiling and Mike Chang climbed into the room, sending Quinn a quick smile before turning to start loading the cash into a large bag.

Quinn nodded her approval before turning to walk back into the hallway. She inwardly smirked at Santana's perturbed expression-Quinn could tell even through the mask-as Berry babbled on and on about something, most likely trying to psychoanalyze an acceptable reason for the girls' actions.

"S, give her to me. You go and tell B to get ready to go; M and P are moving out. Have her stay watch over the others, but keep by the door so you can hear when I call for you. Be prepared to move quickly." Santana nodded her understanding and pushed Berry in Quinn's direction before walking towards the door. Quinn took a hold of the brunette's arm once more and pulled her into the safe room.

Quinn leaned against the wall, keeping a light, but firm grasp on Berry's wrist as she waited for the boys to finish loading the money into five large bags. As Mike tossed the last loaded bag up to Puck through the hole in the ceiling, Quinn turned to the girl and quipped lightly, "I sure hope you're coordinated, Berry," all the while walking back out to the hallway to call out to Santana, "Let's move; get B." She then pushed Berry towards the ladder, holding her there as she waited for the two other women.

Once Mike, Santana, and Brittany had all climbed up the ladder, Quinn nudged Berry forward before following behind her. "Move your ass, Berry, let's go," she said forcefully, causing the small woman to scurry faster up the rungs.

"I'm sorry, but climbing a ladder doesn't really require that much coordination; I can't see the reason for the requirement of balance-oh, you can _not_  be serious. What is  _that_?"

When Quinn reached the roof of the building, she was glad to see that the area over the safe room was far enough from the edges of the building so that the cops wouldn't see them from their places on the ground. The location of the bank was nearly perfect. It was on the corner of a block with only two entrances: the front and the back, both of which were covered by cops. There was three buildings' worth of rooftop to the group's left and a drop-off to an alleyway on their right. The alley was only about ten feet to the next building complex, and contained no door or window for the police to cover. Set over said alley, from building to building, was a long, thick, braided rope.

They would all have to cross this rope to get to the other building, after which they would run to the other side of the roof, drop down with the ladder, and make their escape in the van parked there. They had made far more difficult escapes before, they could make this one.

"How am I supposed to make it across that thing?" Berry near-screeched. "I mean I was  _exceptional_  in gymnastics when I was younger, but that was many years ago. You can't possibly expect me to-"

"Can it, Berry, and start walking," Santana huffed out as she walked towards the rope with her own bag of money. She waited for Puck to make it safely to the other building before starting her own steps across.

Quinn took her time rolling up the ladder, keeping a careful eye on the nervous Berry girl as she did so. When Mike, Puck, Santana and Brittany had all made it to the other building, Quinn was finished with the ladder and urging Berry forward. "Just walk, Hobbit; you were a freaking gymnast. You can't be  _that_ uncoordinated." Quinn coached, trying to keep calm in order to get away from the cops and the bank they had just robbed.

Rachel nodded, and Quinn saw her close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. She started tapping her foot impatiently as the brunette  _still_  hadn't moved, and she was about to start screaming at the girl when the most astonishing thing happened.

Berry did a cartwheel across the rope braid. A  _cartwheel_. When she reached the end of the rope, she landed almost perfectly on her feet.

Quinn-as well as the others-gaped at the performance they'd just seen. Berry just turned around and walked to the rest of them with a smile on her face. Quinn scoffed under her breath. "Show-off," she muttered before starting her own walk across the rope.

When they were all at the opposite end of the building, Quinn called for a stop. She turned to Puck and asked if he'd brought a spare bag. "Always," he said with a smirk before handing over said spare.

Quinn turned to Berry and tried to keep patience in her voice. "Before you start complaining, you will not suffocate from this. You will have plenty of oxygen and you will only be wearing this until you are in the car with us, got it?"

Quinn could see Berry struggling not to voice her own opinions. She fixed the brunette with a glare and the girl nodded. Quinn placed the sack over the girl's head, tying it in the back with a knot.

They all dropped their cash bags over the edge of the building. She sent Brittany down first, then Mike and Santana. "Help her onto the ladder," she told Puck. "You're stronger; you can hold her up if she slips." Puck turned Berry around and told her to carefully step backwards and down onto the first rung of the ladder. It took a couple minutes, but the girl made it safely onto the ladder and was able to slowly make her own way down. Brittany held her by the arm as Quinn and Puck came down themselves, tugging on the ladder to unhook it from the rooftop.

"And that is a wrap, people, let's get your loser asses home!" Santana said from her place by the van.

"We gotta ditch the girl first, S," Quinn replied. "Keep your head straight." She took Berry from Britt and started walking her to the van.

Santana scoffed. "The only straight I am is straight-up bitch, Q," she replied before climbing into the driver's seat. Mike called shotgun, and the rest piled into the back.

There was a bench seat against one side of the van, opposite the door, as well as one across the back of it. Brittany took the seat nearest the driver, with Puck beside her. Quinn took the Berry girl to the back of the van and strapped her in before taking her own seat. "You alright in there, Berry?" she asked, knocking lightly on the side of her head.

"I am not lacking in oxygen, if that is what your question was referring to. However, I believe you said I would only be wearing this until we were in the car, and here we are, so may I request that it be removed from my-"

"Nope, keep it on. You annoyed me too much," Quinn cut off. She smiled when she realized that this meant it was safe to remove her own mask.

She pulled the ski mask from over her head, rubbing her hands over her face and scratching at the back of her neck in relief, feeling her long hair falling over her shoulders. "S, you know where we're going?" she asked the driver as the others took their masks off as well.

"Not a clue, but we got GPS; we'll find our way back after we drop the hobbit off."

"Good. Nice work today, guys," Quinn said with a smile, patting Puck on his arm before leaning her head back and relaxing. It would be a while before they got to a place with no witnesses to see them drop the Berry girl off. And it had been a long day. Quinn was glad it was almost over.


End file.
